


30 days of OTP Challenge

by squire



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Crack, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Reapersun's 30 days of OTP Challenge, ficlets accompanying artwork, surprisingly Angst too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squire/pseuds/squire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One 221B written to fill each of Reapersun's artwork she created for this challenge. The pieces are linked to in each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1 - Holding hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetLateJuliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetLateJuliet/gifts).
  * Inspired by [30 days OTP Challenge](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/26293) by Reapersun. 



> Beta'ed and brit-picked by the amazing Swissmiss who went over it so fast I couldn't believe it humanly possible. Thanks to her I can publish it without feeling intimidated by my own weaknesses.
> 
> Dedicated to the indescribable SweetLateJuliet and her Edgeways series, a true work of a genius. My work is the Anderson to her being Holmes.

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/35848470628/30-day-otp-challenge-day-1-holding-hands-day)

 

The screaming went out without a sound; either that or Sherlock must have been rendered temporarily deaf – the intensity of the first blow could have caused such an effect.  
  
The second blow cut his lip against his teeth and brought white, singing pain to him and the world was no longer muted.  
  
At last he raised his hands, merely out of instinct because this pain was more real than anything in the past three years, giving his blurred existence sharp contours again. He held the fists that still tried to get at him and suddenly he felt those fists uncurl, fingers with bruised knuckles entwine with his own, the blond head bent down and face hidden–  
  
–and Sherlock couldn't count more than two tears that John had allowed to escape and surely that small amount of liquid could not soak through the thick fabric of his coat, through the wool of his scarf, through the fine silk of his shirt, it could not possibly seep through his skin and flesh and ooze right into his heart and yet this was happening and Sherlock could not process it, he could not find an analogy for it and it was maddening, because Sherlock knew that a knife could cause such pain but that sensation would most certainly be cold…  
  
… but this  _burned_.


	2. Day 2 - Cuddling

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/35900378786/30-day-otp-challenge-day-2-cuddling-day-1)

 

It’s been a hard day for him.  
  
Being dragged to an abandoned house all of a sudden, empty since the first of Moriarty’s bombs destroyed half of it, to be told to sit in the dusty front room and wait there for long, tedious hours, to receive only a few short, abrupt explanations regarding Moriarty’s second-in-command, whispered in the dark…  
  
Sherlock wonders why John agreed to serve as a decoy for Moran, on the very first day they met again, of all things. But then, John has always managed to surprise him in the past.  
  
Maybe it is because of the danger. John always had a soft spot for danger.  
  
He does not wonder when he suddenly feels the heavy weight of John’s head against his own shoulder as the body of his friend, run out of adrenaline, slumps down on the car seat and drifts off to sleep. It’s been a hard day indeed.  
  
On the edge of falling asleep himself, he wonders though: how is he ever supposed to get back to his old life he craved so much during the three years past, when nothing of this – his only friend’s head resting so close to his own only and only because this unforgiving friend was too weary to mind – nothing of this has been allowed to happen before?


	3. Day 3 - Watching a movie

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/35974813928/30-day-otp-challenge-day-3-watching-a-movie)

 

“You look horrible.”  
  
 _You made a considerable contribution to my appearance only yesterday_. He bit back the answer and regretted it instantly. A bad idea to bite on a swollen lip.  
  
DVD under his arm, bag with Chinese take–out in his hand, John Watson ushered himself into the flat Sherlock couldn’t think of as his own.   
  
They sat next to each other, not an inch more distant that was appropriate, on a shabby sofa Sherlock couldn’t think of as a place to lie down and stretch himself out on.  
  
They watched the whole silly movie while Sherlock nibbled at his portion obediently, and he couldn’t think of it like of the old days, not for a second.   
  
Then finally his control snapped and he burst out, venting his frustration at the _thank–God–so–stupid_ plot of the movie, and John rose to the bait and yelled at him and Sherlock thought he had never heard anything he needed to hear more–  
  
And then he found out the only question he was supposed to ask twenty-eight hours and thirty-two minutes earlier.  
  
Twenty-eight hours and thirty-three minutes after he made him bleed on the outside, John Watson stopped the bleeding that had been going on inside for the last three years.  
  
Sherlock couldn’t think of any place else he should be.


	4. Day 4 - On a Date

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36057951361/30-day-otp-challenge-day-4-on-a-date-day-3)

 

John’s always been a shockingly poor multitasker. You would guess the opposite, he being an army doctor, but mind this: when you’re stitching up your comrade’s femoral artery in the middle of the battlefield, you have to bloody well concentrate on that and pray that there are other expert marksmen at your side that will give you cover.  
  
Sherlock’s brain, on the other hand, is constantly buzzing on multiple levels of awareness. So there he goes, letting himself under the security tape, not showing how much enjoyment he gets out of freaking poor Sally out of her shoes, leaving Anderson two shades paler than he was before, already gathering clues from the surroundings–  
  
–later he sits on the familiar stool in the lab at Bart’s, indulging Molly with his voice half an octave deeper than usual, performing God-knows-what with the lab equipment and the blood samples he scratched off don’t-ask-what–  
  
–later he delivers the culprit into the DI’s waiting hands, already summing up this lovely and refreshening double homicide as  _boring_ –  
  
–all the time fulfilling John’s wish: “Go on, tell me what you’ve been doing all the time”–  
  
–while the biggest part of his brain is waiting desperately like a man being resuscitated waits for another lungful of air, waiting, longing, craving for the moment when John will breathe out:  
  
“Brilliant.”


	5. Day 5 - Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point it should be noted that I didn't follow Reapersun's fills right from the start; I decided to do it only after I saw Sherlock's face on the third panel of this one. The emotions captured there haunted me to do it.

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36131569979/30-day-otp-challenge-day-5-kissing-day-4-day)

 

Sherlock always has a word for everything. He catalogues, affiliates, classifies everything and then he builds his mind palace out of the words.  
  
It’s when he cannot find a proper word that drives him crazy.  
  
In the first year, he didn’t know why he carried on talking as if John were somewhere in the room or chasing his coat in the streets. That was just a  _nuisance_.  
  
In the second year, he found himself composing texts to John he never sent. Silly, demanding, infuriating texts, like the texts he used to send him. Then he catalogued them, organised them in alphabetical order, ran a word analysis on them and upon realising that the most frequent word used was 'miss', he deleted them from his phone and went on being angry with himself that he couldn't delete them from his mind palace. That was  _frustration_.  
  
At the end of the third year and third day he realised that it was possible he would never find a correct word for the–  
  
 _Trust_  with which he leaned into the hand that was pulling him close  
  
 _Submission_ he offered in the way he closed his eyes in anticipation  
  
 _Tenderness_  he felt in the touch on his wounded lip, which should have hurt and yet, did not.  
  
Sherlock had never felt so ignorant and so blessed.


	6. Day 6 - Wearing each other's clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief apppearance of Red Pants.

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36200786426/30-day-otp-challenge-day-6-wearing-each-others)

 

If there was one thing John certainly hadn't missed in the past three years, it was yelling at Sherlock first thing in the morning.  
  
Well, maybe he had missed it. But not now.  
  
It certainly wasn’t helping that when Sherlock explained himself he curled his lips in that half-innocent, half-smug expression which he clearly found on the internet when he Googled  _how to appease an angry boyfriend_. In fact, John saw him Google things much worse than that. This scientific approach worried him a tiny little bit.  
  
It was also no good going on with the rant, especially after he lost the point (again). Mainly because he was so bloody  _new to this_  too.  
  
Sometimes it was like skating on too thin ice, constantly minding the cold water beneath, John mused. Sherlock had been acting as fragile as glass but that didn’t stop him from being ridiculously determined to carry on with _this_ – whatever  _it_ was they had.  
  
John woke up from his musings just in time to catch the most recent deduction of his infuriating boyfriend:  
  
“… from the fit and the wear pattern I can make an accurate guess as to the size of your–”  
  
The Union Jack cushion hid his smug smile and John sighed in exasperation:  
  
“Backside. Please, say you wanted to end it with 'backside'.”


	7. Day 7 - Cosplaying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaper did two versions of this; I squeezed both of them in here.

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36295715318/30-day-otp-challenge-day-7-cosplaying-day-6)

 

“Come on, John, it’s ridiculous! We are English and the English don’t celebrate this stupid holiday at all!”  
  
Trust Sherlock to change his mind after an hour. John added another item to the mental list of relationship-related things that kept getting longer and longer.  
  
“You know how many visiting interns from the U.S. are at Yard this year, don’t you? It’s nice to make them feel at home. Besides, it could be fun.”  
  
The scowl on Sherlock’s face made John regret the last word almost immediately.  _OK. We can handle this_.  
  
John yawned ostentatiously, marched to the door on his own and counted to five in his head. At 'four', an alarming crack of the coffee table accompanied Sherlock falling off the sofa.

***

  
“Sorry, Greg,” John sighed, watching the swaying gait of his friend on his way to fetch aperitifs, humming  _Hooray and up she raises_  and altogether enjoying his costume.  
  
“It could be worse, you know.” Lestrade’s eyebrows rose to meet the horrendous orange wig (Bowie? Really?) he kept on fidgeting awkwardly with. He envied John his easy appearance, the good doctor choosing his favourite, the 11th Doctor.  
  
“It was either this pirate thing or a royal blue Westwood suit…”  
  
“Oh, I see.” Lestrade grunted. “Don’t know if I could endure a whole evening of his 'Bond. James Bond'.”


	8. Day 8 - Shopping

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36412857255/30-day-otp-challenge-day-8-shopping-day-7)

 

The cans, bags, and packages clattered and rolled on the floor and John’s frustrated sighs reached another level in becoming an established language with its own thesaurus and grammar.  
  
Yes, it was nice to suddenly have Sherlock around so much – he was there with a cuppa in the early hours of the morning when John came home from the night shift at the clinic; he was there – actually making a toast, of all things, somehow messing it up  – when John woke up late in the afternoon and came down to ask if there were any new cases.  
  
Then it dawned on John that Sherlock probably wasn't going to sleep in between.  
  
Idiot. That made forty-nine hours awake for Sherlock, since the stubborn git had refused to sleep at all during their last case.  
  
And yet, the moment John mentioned their reduced food supplies and Tesco’s in one sentence, Sherlock was already holding the door open for him.  
  
It would seem that this six feet of genius (add half an inch for the sake of the cheekbones)  was deeply determined to atone for every day of  _not being with John_  in the last three years. It was sweet. And it was infuriating.  
  
“I have a confession to make,” Sherlock muttered on their way to the morgue.   
  
“I hate every variety of berry.”


	9. Day 9 - Hanging out with friends

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36570163686/30-day-otp-challenge-day-9-hanging-out-with)

 

“You don’t have to go, you know.”  
  
“But I want to! It could be… fun?”  
  
When you’re living with Sherlock, you have to know one thing: he’s as changeable as the London weather.  
  
If you think, 'That’s OK because weather can be predicted – why else would the BBC spend so much time airing weather forecasts?' – then you’ve clearly never been to England.  
  
Right now there are dark stormclouds hovering in the corner of a crowded pub, and no silver lining to be seen. They are headed in the same direction the weather took the day John went out on a sunny afternoon, only to return half an hour later, soaked to the bones by a deluge which would’ve made Noah look around for timber.  
  
A couple of minutes later outside the pub, after a particularly poor choice of phrasing on John’s part, Sherlock suddenly switched – rainclouds immediately subdued, leaving only a drizzle of tears behind his horrified eyes, because  _not having to do_   _ANY of this_  means  _no John_  and that could never become option and thus Sherlock is definitely going to do  _all of this_  and surely this is logical, isn’t it?  
  
“No, Sherlock, it is not.”  
  
A couple of kisses and one 'Thank God for the mould' later, John watches him dashing up the street like a lightning bolt.


	10. Day 10 - With animal ears

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36631786334/30-day-otp-challenge-day-10-with-animal-ears)

 

There’s one thing about a hangover that John positively hates: it seems to force his senses up into higher level of perception, a level his brain is not accustomed to.  
  
Surely a thoroughly successful night like the last one is worth the prize. Especially when he’d managed to drink Anderson under the table. Luckily Sally was sober enough to take care of him and drunk enough to be willing to.  
  
But today he’s feeling like he has the eyes of a mole (so he avoids the daylight as much as he can) and the ears of a bat (thank God Baker Street is not busy this time of day). And what the hell is that smell? Surely his stomach isn't about to have an accident…  
  
John feels like he’s going to have one right now.  
  
His sorely tried stomach is going to execute a couple of more turns later, when John discovers that being  _more explicit_  is counterproductive – when he banned Sherlock from performing experiments involving pig’s eyes and corrosives on the kitchen table, Sherlock retreated to performing experiments involving frog’s legs and electrical charges on the kitchen worktop.   
  
John flees to his room and, with a pillow over his head, meditates on the extent of damage his bat ears would take from the sound of running water in a bath.


	11. Day 11 - Wearing kigurumis

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36721356211/30-day-otp-challenge-day-11-wearing-kigurumis)

 

“This is a disproportionate punishment for the kitchen table.”  
  
“There’s a new Twitter hashtag by now for the pictures of your latest variant of The FunnyHat,” John agrees happily. He made sure earlier that none of the police officers present would forget their camera phone. He also hoped that none of the parents would sue them afterwards.  _Suppose Lestrade will cover for it._    
  
The Light side of the Force faces the Dark one as the silent battle of willpowers commences.  
  
 _I could dye ALL of your pants red._

_  
I could mess up your sock index to such an extent that you’d be forced to call in Mycroft to sort it out._

_  
I could use your father’s stethoscope for a particularly vicious experiment._

_  
I could make Lestrade  ban you from the Yard for six months._

_  
I could kiss you in the middle of a crime scene._

_  
I could NOT kiss you good night tonight._

__  
No! Surely you love me too much for that!  
  
John smiles. An entirely new field of possibilities for negotiation has opened in front of him.  
  
Sherlock, surprisingly, smiles too. After all, the most important of his stipulations for this day was fulfilled. It’s been nearly twenty-eight years since the infamous family gathering when Mycroft turned twelve, the last time he was allowed to dress up like a bee.


	12. Day 12 - Making out

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/36944206523/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-12)

 

Sherlock’s bed is almost sinfully comfortable, John muses, a strange contradiction for a man who wouldn’t actually use it for days–  
  
Then the man in question suddenly looms over him and John briefly wonders how on earth it came to this, him being  _Three C Watson_ , actually feeling desperate like a bloody virgin all over again.   
  
Sherlock purrs his name in a voice which seems to be designed for diverting the blood in John’s body away from his brain altogether and then simply falls on him like a ravenous beast. John is beginning to feel like a starter to a very opulent dinner – very much Sherlock-like this way, indeed, with his habit of chewing on food for several minutes without actually swallowing it, and then he has to steady himself – oh yes, there is the infuriatingly beautiful arse so perfectly at hand to grope – because the word _swallowing_  has set his mind down paths it has never endeavoured to tread so far and…  
  
Though Sherlock’s mouth is still on him like he was following the  _Snogging for Experts Tutorial_ , which John suspects he probably is, there’s something wrong.  
  
Could it be – this intoxicating mouth belonging to the same body as the unresponsive lower parts?  
  
“Sherlock!” he yells at his obviously not aroused boyfriend. “Experimenting on human beings has actually been banned!”


	13. Day 13 - Eating ice cream

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/37177219160/30-day-otp-challenge-day-13-eating-ice-cream)

 

Several things were dawning on John that particular chill mid-January afternoon as he accompanied Sherlock to yet another crime scene.  
  
First: becoming involved in a romantic relationship with that mad bastard was the shortest straw he had ever drawn in his life. And trust him to know about short.   
  
Because second: although Sherlock was a very oral man – you only had to listen to his honed diction while he was blasting words at firing rate of an AK-47 to realise he definitely should’ve had a firearms license for that mouth – what frustrated John was the fact that for the last two months in bed Sherlock had been perfectly content with nibbling, licking, sucking and biting…  
  
… on John’s earlobe.  
  
Which leads us to third: Sally’s statement – _Sherlock gets off on crime scenes_ – was sadly incorrect. Sherlock gets off on  _behaving indecently_  at crime scenes. Right now he was having a very good time watching John, who was having a very hard time watching that voluptuous mouth doing the most wicked things…

  
… to an ice lolly.  
  
The fourth and possibly not the least thing that was making its presence known by the way in which certain parts were pressing on John’s jeans was the disturbing question of whether a man might actually be killed by a severe case of blue balls.


	14. Day 14 - Genderswapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John is being naughty.

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/37492660140/30-day-otp-challenge-day-14-genderswap-day-13)

 

 _Oh.  
  
Yes.  
  
Oh God, yes.  
  
Yes, this is definitely….mmmm…  
  
Uhm, maybe this is a bit too much…_  
  
“John?”  
  
John stopped sorting through his collection of fan art and enjoyed the rare view of one Sherlock Holmes rendered speechless. It took him two minutes to process the fact that having a personal blogger to spread his fame did bring in a possibly… smutty side of the fame.  
  
John, on the other hand, who had finally come to terms with his transition from  _I’m not gay_  to  _I’m sharing bed with an asexual_ , wasn't shocked so easily. When he saw Sherlock adapting to his newly discovered reputation by pinning some of the drawings on the wall right on the spot where Mycroft would have no chance of not seeing it the next time he butted in – John just smiled to himself and squinted happily at his laptop again.  
  
Not for long.  
  
He quickly closed the window displaying the story involving six-inch stilettos and a bespoke riding crop, deciding Sherlock wasn't ready for it. Yet.  
  
“Look, most of it is just a lovely romantic stuff,” he pointed out.  
  
“Are you really getting off on it?”  
  
 _You have no idea_. John thought of the past two months of no actual sexual intercourse.  
  
“Maybe if you had a look at these… perhaps the[ Black and Blue](http://sherlockbbc.livejournal.com/1367714.html)?”


	15. Day 15 - In a different clothing style

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/37795898975/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-15-in-a)

 

It definitely wasn’t anything from a fan fic, John was sure.  
  
Even their craziest plot bunnies couldn’t imagine this. Even  _he_  couldn't imagine this.  
  
Not that it wouldn’t suit him. It was something of a law of nature that Sherlock always looked gorgeous in anything he dared to put on. Including the times he had nothing on. Not that John could take any advantage of those times, of course. But he knew.  
  
 _Someone just got lucky_ , John thought enviously as he wriggled his arse in another fruitless attempt to make those damned leather trousers fit. Sod the trousers, sod this case, he just wanted them to get through it and hope that none of the witnesses would have a camera phone handy.  
  
He was so busy feeling awkward that he didn’t notice a completely different kind of awkwardness mirrored on the face of his friend. He was so distracted by the unwelcome tightness of those damned trousers over his backside that he didn't spot his friend being distracted too – and feeling, suddenly, very tight too.   
  
Later that night, when things got tight for them both (and wouldn’t they, with Sherlock going on like he did and looking like he did?), Sherlock realised that concentrating on the fight, standing back to back, and  _not looking_  back, required an unexpected amount of bravery.


	16. Day 16 - During their morning rituals

[Reapersun's artwork ](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/37841994978/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-16)(link slightly nsfw)

 

Well, this was enough. A bit over the top actually. Far too much.  
  
Being in a relationship with Sherlock was like taking care of an abandoned puppy you found on the street. Yes, it was sweet and endearing, but then you had to teach it the basics – not to chew on your jumpers, not to tear apart your morning papers, not to pee on the rug.  
  
Sherlock behaved much like an over-large puppy. Following John everywhere. John wasn’t sure what had brought this on. Since the fight in that obscure music club Sherlock had been like… he’d even text him when John locked himself in the loo. Locked for good measure, never repeating the same mistake twice.  
  
Then the gaze. John started to doubt the scientific statement that an eye is a receiving organ that cannot emit laser beams or electromagnetic field emissions of any kind. But lately, John felt that whenever he turned his back on his friend, Sherlock’s eyes were burning a hole… well, somewhere.  
  
Maybe Sherlock –finally– decided to explore the more carnal side of a relationship and John wasn’t sure whether his to–do list was ordered alphabetically, in order of importance or…  
… in order of the growing level of awkwardness, like right now.  
  
“Really, Sherlock, have you never come across the concept of personal boundaries?”


	17. Day 17 - Spooning

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/38040691829/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-17)

 

We might be as well a couple after thirty years of marriage, Sherlock thought angrily.  
  
The honest part of his brain reminded him of the fact that this state of things was entirely his own fault.  
  
He had always prided himself on his asexuality. The less energy devoted to the transport, the more available for the brainwork. But strangely, it would seem that his brain and his more… operational organs had developed a hitherto unheard-of connection. Precisely speaking, since that leather trousers incident.   
  
Every time he remembered them (he couldn't even count how many times by now), his brain would short-circuit and the situation _below stairs_  would demand to be dealt with.  
  
The problem being, Sherlock had no idea how he should deal with it. Oh yes, he had watched John the other day, but… they were a couple, they should do things together, right?  
  
 And John was so maddeningly oblivious about it. So stupidly okay with it.  
  
He lay in his bed feeling like it was a grill, and  _really John the hand on my side is not helping_ , blood pounding in his ears,  _if only it could be just the ears_ , and the soft breath on his neck felt like a brand on his skin with–  
  
Blah blah blah blah **sex**  blah blah blah blah **sex** blah blah blah.


	18. Day 18 - Doing something together

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/38295487072/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-18) (link nsfw)

 

 _Lie back and think of England_ : the ridiculous line appeared out of nowhere in Sherlock’s head.  
  
“Just make it quick, John.”  
  
 _No way_. John hid an amused grin. There was a reason they called him  _Three C Watson_  back in the army. This might well be the first cock down his throat but he'd still deliver his best game.  
  
So there you are at last, you big mouth of a genius, writhing and swearing like a man possessed, and you taste salty with sweat and bitter with pre-come and actually when mingled with my own saliva the taste is not so bad…  
  
Technically, human ejaculate contains mostly sugars like saccharose and dextrose, John recalled his medical knowledge, briefly amused with himself and the possibility that this Sherlockian, analytical way of thinking might be contagious. Then, why it doesn't taste sweet…? Then the realisation hit him, of course, the taste buds responsible for tasting sweetness are located on the tip of the tongue, which rarely comes in contact with the liquid that he was currently swallowing down his throat.  
  
It wasn't so bad at all.  
  
He leaned over to check on Sherlock, who lay there motionless, spent and sated…  
…okay, maybe not so sated.  
  
Could he ever have guessed, only a few days ago, that Sherlock would become such an insatiable beast?


	19. Day 19 - In formal wear

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/38846406397/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-19-in)

 

“What’s wrong with my suit?”  
  
“Your ability to answer yourself in the very question you’ve asked never ceases to amaze me, John.”  
  
“Now hang on a minute-”  
  
“It’s wrong, John. You look like a poor relative at a nineteenth-century funeral in it. We don’t have time to get you anything proper but I’ll see to…”  
  
“Okay,” John sighed. “I just don’t like the prospect of… you know, shopping with you.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry. I will  _behave_.”  
  
The moment John emerged from the fitting room in his very fitting, very flattering suit, Sherlock’s brain short-circuited.  
  
A week ago he didn’t even have a sexuality. Now he was pretty sure he had at least one sexual kink. In another two hours he would discover that his good doctor could be turned on very quickly by a combination of Sherlock’s own bespoke suit and extremely dirty talking.  
  
“Really, Sherlock, you are a weapon of mass destruction sometimes.”  
  
The part of Sherlock’s brain that not only loved John, but also loved to be in love with John, actually dwelled on some promising courses of investigation that he could undertake, like…  
  
What effect it would have if John’s suit were bespoke and not just some hastily grabbed ready-to-wear…  
  
And where exactly the line was beyond which he would be never again bothered by his big brother. 


	20. Day 20 - Dancing

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/39114162752/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-20) (link nsfw)

 

“I’d really like to dance.”  
  
“You? I never took you for the dancing type.”  
  
“Well, umm, I’ve always danced on my dates, when there was the opportunity…”  
  
“I’d like to remind you that we’re not on a date.”  
  
“I understand you’re here to teach Mycroft a lesson, like ‘never try to socialise a sociopath’, but this is a bloody social event and I want to dance!”  
  
  
Persuading Sherlock to dance ranked as John's second-worst decision ever, a close runner-up to starting to date him.  
  
“Hands off my arse.”  
  
"You asked me to think about sex in order to overcome my initial awkwardness about making ridiculous moves in rythm.”  
  
“I asked you to think of it, not to perform it on the dance floor.”  
  
“Your definition of sex is rather prudish.”  
  
“The very opposite to your definition of dancing.”  
  
“You should know that the embarrassing effect this has on you won't distract me. The blush does marvels to your face. I like it.”  
  
“Are you aware that people are staring?”  
  
“Of course, though it’s rather interesting. I would assume that at their age they would already be familiar with the concept of… ”  
  
“Don’t you pretend you’re not getting it!”  
  
“That’s the advantage of being a sociopath. I can get away with not getting it.”

…

  
Sherlock was literally having a ball.     
  
  



	21. Day 21 - Cooking

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/39825621544/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-21)

 

 _Sssssss… ssssss… ssssssssssssss…_  
  
Do you have no shame? Must you really hiss so… sensuously?  
  
It’s nice to come apart in such gorgeous hands, you know.  
  
Gorgeous, my arse! He’s just mistaken sugar for salt!  
  
 Hmmm… sweet.  
  
You’re impossible. Just when I would be really happy to be delicious for him. He deserves that after what he was put through last night.  
  
 Got a crush on the blond, do you?  
  
I can’t help it! I’m a hen, I’m supposed to like cute and fluffy! And he’s so adorably tired, poor lad, tired like a flat tyre I’d say, lying on the table like that. I wonder how he manages to sit on that hard wooden chair; he really should carry around a cushion with him for a while.  
  
 How sympathetic of you.  
  
I know what I’m talking about! I was supposed to lay eggs; can you imagine how that would feel? The part of me that should’ve become the cloaca is just compassionate.  
  
Well, I wouldn’t know. I would’ve been a cock. And it seems to me that he likes cock, huh? I could hear his enthusiasm about it through the closed fridge door last night!  
  
Happy intestinal route, you insufferable prat.  
  
Same to you, love.

...

  
 Was it only some residual dreaming fantasy, or were the eggs on his plate really bickering?


	22. Day 22 - In battle (side by side)

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/40591949631/full-res-1-2-3-30-day-otp-challenge-day-22-in)

 

He would find him. It’s just a matter of time. All he had to do was sit and do exactly what he’d never done before. Wait.  
  
He lost all sense of time – not quite sure how long ago, it might have been hours or days. There was water leaking out of the old piping somewhere, the ceaseless drip-drip offensively loud, with the cold, concrete echo and the pause just a split second longer each time, completely throwing off his counting.  
  
He would have to ask him. How long had he been in here? He would know, he had counted the seconds of three years for him. He would yell the time at him.  
  
His hands had fallen asleep some time ago, the blood cooled and dried. You could only pick handcuffs with a hairpin up your sleeve in books. In real life your abductors would make quite sure you couldn’t.  
  
But then he would come for him and click that lock open and lift him up and skim over his sore wrists with a light and tender touch. He would treat the wound on his forehead and warm him and feed him and hold him. Perhaps he would punch him too, later. That would be good.  
  
All he had to do was wait.  
  
Then he would apologise for not knowing better.


	23. Day 23 - Arguing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got away from the artwork. It's not an accompanying piece like the others; it's sort of alternative development based on the last line of Reaper's previous part "Don't talk to me, Sherlock."

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/40689137351/full-res-1-30-day-otp-challenge-day-23)

 

 _I won’t be there the next time you do this. I won’t be_  here.  
  
Sherlock had fallen asleep on the sofa, the ordeal of three days and the argument and the silent treatment after taking their toll, and in that near-unconsciousness he had a dream.  
  
He was back there, not knowing how many hours or days had passed, thinking about John.  
  
How stupid of him not to bring John along to cover his back. John would be so angry with him. The anger might warm him a little. If anger is all John would have to offer then Sherlock would accept it.  
  
John would be thunderous and over-protective, bossing around the paramedics. He would insist on a proper dinner and Sherlock would actually eat it.  _He wasn't hungry, can’t have been there that long_. He was hungry for John’s attention.  
  
Perhaps John would be so angry that he would bend him over a table and fuck him just to reclaim him, and then still be angry. Sherlock wouldn’t mind that.  
  
Nobody came. Nobody saved him, only to make him face rejection. Nobody brought him home in silence. In that dream, Sherlock died eventually, believing till the end that John was still somewhere out there, loving him. It was a good death.  
  
Sherlock woke up shaking violently, crying like an abandoned baby. 


	24. Day 24 - Making up afterwards

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/40833855280/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-24)

 

 _Still has trust issues._  
  
As usual with Mycroft, his comment didn't only refer to John’s unsolicited trust toward Sherlock, so unexpected from someone as cautious as he was. There was another layer in that statement, one which John only became aware of recently: Sherlock had trust issues of his own.  
  
Sherlock, who seemed so aloof, impassive, and unapproachable, actually trusted a lot of people. Mrs Hudson, Molly, Lestrade, even his brother in his own special way. And unfortunately, he had also trusted all the people who said:  _Loner. Outcast. Freak. No one will ever love you._  
  
In fact, the only person Sherlock did not trust was himself.  
  
That’s why he always had to prove a point, to outlive God, that’s why he never allowed himself to fail. He wasn’t sure he could handle it. He came close to failure once and turned self-destructive. He did not trust himself to go through another loss and remain sane.  
  
He’d been accused of not relying on anybody many times, but the fact was that he never allowed anybody to rely on him – not when it mattered. Alone protected those around him.  
  
 _Can’t you see, John? I’m not putting you in danger. I’m the danger. I can’t be trusted._  
  
“You have to trust me. And you have to let me trust you. It’s called balance.”


	25. Day 25 - Gazing into each other's eyes

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/40992733723/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-25)

 

“Get married? But we’ve only been together for…”  
  
Then it hit him. According to what conventions? What conventions apply to a couple consisting of a mad genius of a detective and an adrenaline junkie of a blogger?  
  
 _You and I._  
  
At a casual glance , everyone would assume that John is a man of words. He and his catch phrase, 'We need to talk.' And he keeps a blog, of course. Sherlock then would be the man of action, the one who solves crimes and forgets his pants occasionally. As usual with casual glances, everyone would get it the wrong way round.  
  
On their first day, Sherlock poured out a flow of deductions which overwhelmed John completely – and John responded by coming to the flat in the afternoon, like it was the most natural thing in the world.  
  
On the first night, Sherlock tried to babble his way out of the trap the cabbie set for him. John went and shot the cabbie.  
  
Many days and years later, Sherlock struggled to find words to describe his feelings towards his flatmate, whereas the said flatmate pulled him down for a kiss without a second thought.  
  
The thing is, Sherlock can see through everything and everyone. John only sees through Sherlock and he’s fine with that.  
  
 _John, that’s what makes you so brilliant._


	26. Day 26 - Getting married

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/41570075757/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-26)

 

The only thing that prevented Sherlock from pressing the _formal wear_  matter in any more detail was the fact that Mycroft was within earshot and it might give him ideas.  
  
“Did you know there’s an island in Denmark where you can get married after staying there only twenty–four hours? Why can’t we take a nice holiday and…”  
  
“Again, no.”  
  
“Do you realise how tedious this is?”  
  
“It would be more tedious to get rid of your body.”  
  
“Really, John? You wouldn’t. Even Lestrade would suspect you.”  
  
“No, I wouldn’t. But I’m sure Mrs Hudson would kill you on the spot, and I like her far too much to allow her to be sent up for your murder.”  
  
The ceremony went according to expectations, which were, in this case, fairly low. Certainly the poor wedding registrar didn’t expect one of the husbands-to-be to intimidate her the way he did, making a good show of how much he was bored by the whole ceremony. The expression of grim determination on the face of the other was certainly not usual either, not to mention the triumphant smirk he added afterwards. And if her own formulations weren’t strictly spoken according to the law, would anyone really be surprised?   
  
In the end, they looked all right on the photographs. A couple of very adorable bridegrooms.


	27. Day 27 - On one of their birthdays

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/41935507884/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-27-on)

 

What do one horrible beach shirt (very inappropriate for the season), one pair of fashionable yellow sunglasses, and one pair of boarding passes have in common?  
  
All that was dumped in a waste bin at Gate 38 of London International Airport a few days ago by two men who left in a suspiciously agitated state after receiving simultaneous messages on their mobile phones. It looked like an intro to a new Bond movie. Several people snapped shots with their camera phones, hoping to become famous on Twitter.   
  
Okay, I’m kidding. John kept the shirt, obviously.  
  
And he’s only half–heartedly angry with me for hinting aloud he shouldn’t have done so.   
  
But I’m in a pliant mood, as you can deduce for yourself from the fact that it’s me typing up this particular entry on the famous blog of my espoused, precisely as he asked me to. He did abandon our honeymoon for the sake of this particular case, after all, and trust me, dear readers: no one has ever given me a more welcome birthday present.   
  
If I recall the course of events properly, this case would especially raise the otherwise so rarely displayed interest of my dear brother. From the first look at the information, I was only half interested anyway, but since John had given me his blessing…


	28. Day 28 - Doing something ridiculous

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/42224932799/full-res-1-2-3-30-day-otp-challenge-day-28)

 

…I have offered my help with the investigation, even as it seemed that this case shouldn’t tax the strengths of the Canadian police unduly.  
  
Rarely as it happens, I was wrong. I underestimated both the stupidity of the police, who inevitably went for the red herring like a bunch of eager greyhounds and arrested the wrong man, and the overarching cleverness of the real culprit, who managed to elude our trap for three days longer than I expected.  
  
However, I could hardly blame the men who call themselves forensic experts for not knowing the difference between a store-bought and a self-mixed cupcake icing from the way it combined with the cooling blood. John has assured me that there is no other man on this planet who could know such a thing just because he happened to perform an experiment on it. I’m not sure if he meant that as a compliment.  
  
The third severe underestimation falls firmly on the shoulders of my espoused, who stubbornly refused to leave behind the clothes he originally packed (as you may recall from the beginning of my post), not taking into account the temperature difference between our original honeymoon destination and the average Canadian weather at this time of year. You know John well enough to know that I’ve been laden with all the blame.


	29. Day 29 - Doing something sweet

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/42650688889/full-res-1-2-3-30-day-otp-challenge-day-29) (all links will be nsfw from now on, what did you expect?)

 

The heating in their hotel room was turned to maximum, the sheets were warm and cosy and Sherlock’s body beneath him soft and perfectly comfortable. John buried his face in the tender hollow under his husband’s collarbone and inhaled deeply, thinking how lucky he was.  
  
Six years ago, he had spent this day stuffing his stomach with sweets at the farewell dinner with his family. His departure for Afghanistan had been due in two days. He didn’t know if he would be there again the next year.  
  
Four years ago he found himself in the middle of a crime investigation, chasing the tails of Sherlock’s coat all around London in the hunt for a particularly gruesome murderer. He felt he was going mad for six feet and half an inch of reasons and he never wanted to see the end of it.  
  
Two years ago, exactly on this day, he woke up in another strange bed, after another one-night stand he picked up in a bar, just to forget his own loneliness. Later that day, he eyed his gun and wished he wouldn’t have to experience for another day like that the following year.  
  
Today, he had everything he had and everything he didn't all those years before, and the best of it was that the future could only get better.


	30. Day 30 - Doing something hot

[Reapersun's artwork](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/42933126441/full-res-1-2-3-30-day-otp-challenge-day-30) \- and [one extra day](http://reapersun.tumblr.com/post/43068383620/full-res-1-2-30-day-otp-challenge-day-31-bonus) (more of the pink)

 

 _I’ve got you. I have you._  
  
Don’t worry. You may go as far as you like and I will be here to hold you for your safe return. I am holding you now, holding back myself, I know you can tell that from the way I am trembling but I know that you are too far gone to actually notice, and in this kind of abandon you are mine entirely and I will carry you through it. You’re going to have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow and maybe you will be a little sore and though I’m going to hurt you for a little while, I will never harm you.  
  
You are all I have. I was so alone and you have made me yours. I was broken and you have made me whole. I have you only because you have given yourself to me.  
  
I want to be there every day that follows to ride your storms, to calm your frenzies, to chase away your demons, to bring light into the darkness that sometimes lurks so close. I know why you need me. You have always been great, but I have made you good. You have always been unique, but I have made you perfect. You have always been burning inside, but I have made you shine. I am conducting your brightness. 


End file.
